Sweet 61
by A Karswyll
Summary: Jack O'Neill has survived the big six-oh and is turning a year older once again. After the fast paced year, he decided to celebrate and mark his 'Sweet 61st' birthday with just himself and his wife at the cabin. [Celebrating Jack's Birthday on 20 October.]


**Title**: Sweet 61  
**Author**: A. Karswyll  
**Rated**: M (FFnet), MA (elsewhere)  
**Words**: 5,431  
**Summary**: Jack O'Neill has survived the big six-oh and is turning a year older once again. After the fast paced year, he decided to celebrate and mark his 'Sweet 61st' birthday with just himself and his wife at the cabin. [Celebrating Jack's Birthday on 20 October.]  
**AN**: Written of course for Jack O'Neill's birthday so—Happy Birthday Jack!  
The first scene of this short story has been edited to comply with FFnet's rules and guidelines and the full scene is available to read on my samandjack. net and archiveofourown. org accounts.

* * *

**Season 17  
20 October 2013**

Jack woke to the wonderful sound of quiet—no traffic hum or any other city noise—outside the cabin walls and relaxed back beneath the warm patchwork quilt that blanketed him and Sam. The last month had been hectic, not stressful per se, but full of things being done and he appreciated the moment to do nothing.

Especially on this day. Not that he liked being a year older but hey, he'd gotten over the big six-oh last year and any reason to celebrate was a good day in his books.

He lay on his back and lazily tracked the beam of sunlight creeping across the worn quilt. It had traveled about an inch or so when his wife started to stir and turning his head, he watched her wake up.

She lay curled on her side facing him, her long hair a tangled mess around her face and spread over her shoulders and pillow. When she opened her blue eyes and gave him a sleepy smile he felt an intense sensation of adoration well up inside him.

"Hey," she murmured.

"Hey you," he returned thickly, his voice tight from the emotion filling him.

Her sleepy smile deepened. From beneath the sheets her right hand emerged to settle atop his, where it lay on top the quilt, and she gave his fingers a squeeze.

He laced his fingers through hers and drew her hand to his mouth and pressed soft, adoring kisses to her knuckles. Then his kisses sought out all the faint scars on her hand, marks on her fingers from tools that slipped in greased hands, a line along her palm from a broken computer mainframe that had been a clue to saving them in the past, and a nick on the back of her hand from an axe that had slipped while surviving offworld. His lips feathered up her arm and the quilt was pushed back as he kissed up to her neck and across her collarbone; making sure to visit each and every freckle that decorated her skin.

Sam's breath caught and she gave these delicious little quivers as his lips touched and adored her skin. Her arms came up around his shoulders and she pulled him closer.

Jack felt his lips curl at the corners up at her reaction. He pressed a smiling kiss in the warm hollow of her throat and then guided his lips up her throat, over the strong edge of her chin as he trailed to her mouth. The first press of lips against lips was as soft and as brief as the adoring butterfly kisses he'd been brushing against her skin.

He returned his lips to hers and the tip of his tongue traced the seam of her mouth, seeking entrance. Sam parted her lips to him, allowing his tongue to slip within her mouth. His lips adored her lips as his tongue gently touched and tasted hers. Heated arousal flowed through him and he savoured it. He eased from her mouth, felt her breath rush against his skin, and then when breath had returned to both of them he returned for another kiss.

The fourth kiss Jack drew back from and his lips curled up in self-satisfaction again when her mouth rose to follow him. He gave a minute shake of his head to dissuade her, so she settled back into the pillow with a throaty sigh, and he trailed damp kisses back down and beneath her jaw as she tilted her head back to give him access, and down her throat again.

. . .

Sam lay beneath the weight of her husband, one hand draped across his back and the fingers of her other threaded through his silvered hair as he lay upon her with his face buried in the pillow over her shoulder.

Flushed and with the climatic pleasure still coursing through her, she was in no hurry to move. And with the sun coming through the window and warming their exposed bodies, there was no need to reclaim the sheets that had been shoved aside or the quilt that had fallen off the bed to the floor.

As time passed and the sweat on their bodies started to cool their skin, Jack's weight changed from welcoming to uncomfortable as he pressed down on her. She flexed the fingers threaded in his hair and scratched her nails over his scalp. "Jack, move over a bit please."

She didn't even get a wordless grunt in answer.

"Jack, please move over," she repeated as her fingers again ran over his scalp. She thought he twitched but no grunt or hum or mumbled word.

"Jack!" This time she tugged on the silver strands of his hair a bit harder to get his attention. "Move it!"

"Huh, wha?" His head came up off the pillow and he gave her a squinty, baffled look.

"Move over General," she tugged on his hair again, gentle now that she had his attention, "you're squishing me."

"Oh, sorry…" he shifted his body to the left so the bulk of his weight now rested on his side, although his arm and leg were still draped over her, and with a glint in his eye finished, "General."

"J-a-c-k," she drawled.

"G-e-n-e-r-a-l," he drawled in a matching tone.

She rolled her eyes at him even as she flushed. "You just love saying that, don't you?"

"Of course I do," his limbs gave her an affectionate hug, "and don't tell me it doesn't still give you a thrill to hear it. You after all haven't been a minted Brigadier General for more than a month."

She bit her lower lip and gave a confessing nod. The day to day responsibilities of being the new base commander of SGC since the beginning of October had quieted the daily thrill and awe she felt at the promotion and assignment but the moments were still there.

"So, you wanna get up?"

"No, not yet." Her fingertips began to run through his hair and she felt him relax into her with a contented sigh. What did finally disturb them was the ringing of a phone—his phone by the ringtone.

Jack lifted his head off the pillow and gave a dirty look through the wall, towards the kitchen, where the cabin's land line and their cell phones were. Grumbling he rolled out of bed and stalked out of the bedroom.

Sam admired the view of his naked backside as he went. Nine years of riding a desk instead of walking the fields had softened his waist and added more weight elsewhere but he was still Jack and he still had a six she'd watch any day.

Then with sigh of her own she got out of bed. She debated between stripping the bed and taking a shower and in the end, her skin feeling tacky she decided on the shower first. Once in the bathroom's combined bathtub-shower stall her movements as she soaped up and cleaned herself off with the washcloth were brisk and efficient. Decades in the military would teach anyone how to shower in three minutes or less.

When done she slid back the frosted shower door and stepped over the edge of the tub onto the bathmat. Plucking a towel from the rack bolted to the pine paneled wall, she briskly towelling herself off.

With an edge of the towel she wiped the condensation on the mirror over the sink away and looked at her reflection. Critically she eyed her hair and her roots in particular. The roots were definitely lightening again and she debated, as she had every time since she'd first dyed her hair four years ago, if she shouldn't just return to her natural colour. Mentally setting the question aside she blow-dried and combed her hair before emerging from the bathroom.

In the bedroom she found Jack, now in a set of boxer shorts, whistling the Simpsons tune beneath his breath as he finished placing fresh sheets on the bed. He was certainly in a better mood than she'd expected considering a call on his cell phone on a day he had explicitly said the only calls better be end-of-the-world emergencies. The same order she had given to her staff before going on this weekend vacation with her husband to celebrate his birthday together.

They loved their family and the get together last year for Jack's sixtieth had been great, but they just wanted some time to themselves. The start of October had loaded a lot on them with her promotion and assignment to SGC which meant house shopping in Colorado Springs as they separated their households again, for her the pressure of the responsibilities that came with her new rank and assuming a new command position and especially of one as unique as SGC.

"Who called?" she crossed to her dresser.

"Cassie, wishing me a happy birthday." Jack fluffed the last pillow. "She tried the cabin phone but all she got was a busy signal all morning so she called my cell—it looks like it got knocked off the hook last night."

Sam tried to think of how the land line had been knocked off its cradle but nothing came to mind so she dismissed it. From her dresser she selected underwear and socks, a pair of blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a striped brown and cream-coloured turtleneck-sweater.

"I'm going to put this load in the wash," he pointed at the pile of sheets that had been stripped from the bed and added to the laundry basket, "and take a quick shower."

"Okay." She began dressing. "What would you like for your birthday breakfast?"

Jack hummed and looked thoughtful and then announced, "French toast."

"Just French toast?" She well remembered the breakfast menu of his last birthday; an all out meal of eggs, bacon, sausage, and fried potatoes.

"Well, okay, sausage too."

"Okay," she couldn't help but smile at him, "French toast and sausage it is."

He returned the smile, picked up the load of laundry and went to shower.

She pulled on the last article of clothing, her turtleneck-sweater, and made her way to the kitchen. The radio was on, turned to the local classical station so Jack must have turned it on when he'd gone to answer the phone.

She opened the fridge door and debated whether to start on breakfast while he was in the shower, or to start the mixing up the cake and doing breakfast once he was out of the shower. She settled on the latter course, turned on the oven, and got out all the ingredients for his birthday cake—Chocolate Guinness Cake—as he'd requested and the breakfast fixings.

She put the sausage in a skillet to cook and the egg and milk batter for the French toast she mixed up and set aside with the bread so she could quickly throw some pieces onto the skillet when Jack finished his shower.

Then she got started on his cake, heating up the beer and butter on the stove before whisking in the sugar and cocoa. She had just finished mixing the eggs, sour cream, and vanilla extract into the heated beer mixture when she heard the shower turn off.

Pausing in her cake making, she checked on the sausages which were cooking fine and then battered up two pieces of bread and placed them into the waiting skillet and sprinkled cinnamon on.

Back to the cake she went and combined the flour and baking soda together before she stirred it into the beer mixture. When that was done, the toasting bread was ready to be flipped so she did so and sprinkled cinnamon on the other side.

Just as she was sliding the cake batter in the springform pan into the oven, Jack came into the kitchen dressed in jeans and grey plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

He sniffed appreciatively. "Smells great."

She had to agree, the kitchen did smell good with the scents of cinnamon and cocoa and baking. She flipped the ready pieces of French toast onto a plate for him along with three sausages and placed it on the table for him beside the waiting pitcher of orange juice and maple syrup jug.

"Thank you," he said as he sat down.

"You're welcome." She battered up bread for her own breakfast. It only took a few moments to cook and then she joined her husband at the table for a quiet meal of French toast and sausages and listening to classical music.

. . .

Jack dried the rest of the breakfast dishes and finished putting them away just as the timer on the oven went. He stepped back to let Sam at the oven and inhaled deeply of the smell of cake as she took it fresh from the oven and placed it on the cooling rack. "Looks great."

She nodded her agreement and hung the oven mitts back up. "Should be cool enough to ice in half an hour."

"Good." He gave a self satisfied nod and then with the dish towel still in his hands, looped it out and around his wife's hips and pulled her against him. "Now what shall we do…"

Sam laughed and braced her hands on his chest. "Jack, we just got out of bed."

"I didn't say anything about a bed, now did I?" He teased. "I just asked about what we should do. We didn't get everything done yesterday to get the cabin ready for winter after all. But if someone's mind is already on gutters..." he lowered his head to hers and nibbled on her lips, "we could always go clean said eaves-troughs out."

Her breath huffed against his lips as she laughed.

He smiled against her lips. "And we could always get more wood."

She groaned against his mouth. "We got two cords yesterday. That's all we need for winter."

"That's all we need if we're only here for a few weekends..." he trailed off suggestively.

She drew her head away and smiled up at him. "Jack, they didn't let us get away for more than a few weekends here and there last year. And the year before that. I doubt they're going to let us get away with more this year now that I'm commanding SGC. After all, how often did you manage to get away during your first year commanding the base?"

"Not the same," he shrugged as he let her go. And to him it wasn't the same. The motivation behind the odd weekend escape to his cabin in the first year commanding SGC was totally different from the motivation behind escaping to the cabin with his wife.

However, Sam was right as she usually was. It had been tricky before coordinating their vacation times to coincide when she'd been off in space commanding _Hammond_ and he'd been at HWS. It was going to be even trickier now with her at SGC and him at HWS. He could definitely see some people having issues with the heads of the primary alien defense bases being vacant from their posts at the same time.

"How about a drive?" The suggestion popped out as he hung up the dishtowel.

"A drive? Where to?"

"Does it have to be anywhere? We could just... get out and enjoy the scenery."

"I don't know." Sam looked as doubtful as she sounded. "There are still things that need to be done around the cabin."

"They can wait till this afternoon at least." The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Just him and Sam and driving through a Minnesota fall.

"They could," she agreed reluctantly.

"Come on Sam, if you need a place to go to as a reason to go for a drive, we can go to Gooseberry Falls."

"Gooseberry Falls?" Sam gave him a look that said she didn't know what he was talking about.

"Yeah, it's a state park no more than twenty minutes northeast of here, just off Highway 61. Near Lake Superior." He described where the park was to help her place it in her limited mental map of the area.

"Along the highway?" Her brow furrowed. "How far from Two Harbors?"

"No more than ten minutes north. Why?"

"Well I was planning a trip to Two Harbors later today to pick up your birthday present," she confessed. "So we could go for a drive to this park and then swing down through town."

"My birthday present is in town?" Jack raised an eyebrow and muttered to himself. "No wonder I didn't see anything from you in the bags."

"Yes Jack, that's why your snooping only turned up the presents from Daniel, Teal'c, and Cassie."

"Hey, it wasn't snooping," Jack protested his wife's amused taunt, "I was just—"

"Snooping—" she sang.

"Checking the bags so when the luggage check-in clerk asked if I had packed them myself I could say so," he finished self righteously. Never mind that it had been Sam's bags, he should still know right? In case he was asked about what his wife packed.

Sam shook her head at him.

"So, we going for a drive?"

"We're going. Just give me a few minutes to ice the cake." She agreed with a nod and a smile.

"Sure," he readily agreed. He didn't mind waiting until later to eat his cake if it meant he could keep the O'Neill tradition of present and then cake going. After all, part of the reason they were going for a drive now was to get a present.

Jack fetched her plaid shirt-jacket while Sam finished up in the kitchen. The heavy shirt he already had on was more than enough for the warm fall weather Minnesota was experiencing right now but Sam might need another layer for their walk in the park.

He plucked the keys for the cabin and the truck from the rack by the door where it hung beside the keys for the airport rental they'd used to get to the cabin. Other keys on the keyboard were their two sets of household keys, the keys for the boat and generator shed, and a few other sets that he wasn't sure about anymore. One at least looked like the key to his grandparent's first car, which was long gone now.

Stepping outside he breathed deep of the fresh air and took in the sight of the evergreen forest the cabin was nestled within. Decorative patches of yellow, gold, and orange aspen and birch trees scattered through spruce and pine and were reflected in the still water of his pond. The blue sky was almost perfectly clear overhead and not one of the few floating white clouds looked like they were going to float across the brightly shining sun.

He locked the cabin behind Sam and together they took the steps down from the porch. They climbed into his old black Ford, the very same truck that he'd almost sold when he'd been reassigned from Colorado Springs to Washington before deciding to make it the cabin vehicle. A rental was fine for getting to and from the place when they flew in, but he didn't want to always depend on borrowing a neighbour's truck when it came time to haul wood and the like.

The truck started beautifully even after sitting parked for a few months since their last visit but it would start beautifully after the work Sam had done on it yesterday before they'd gone to cut and haul the first cord of wood.

Backing the truck up, he turned it around and started down the dirt lane, driving over the bridge that crossed the creek that fed into the pond. The first time they'd come up here alone, he'd regaled her with the tales of how he'd fished off the bridge as a kid, with his cousins and neighbours, using fishing hooks made from safety pins.

When the lane met the secondary highway he turned north instead of south as he usually did when leaving the cabin.

They drove down quiet back roads, through the forest that carpeted northern Minnesota in its fall colours. Jack shared bits of his childhood with Sam as he pointed out a few of the houses they passed, just visible through the trees that line the road, and recounted the history of the families that had once lived or still lived there.

Once on the double lane highway, silence settled comfortably between them and he just enjoyed the view and the contented company. In a few short minutes they reached the turnoff to the park entrance and he directed the truck down the road. The parking lot had vehicles in it but they easily found an open parking spot close to the path that lead to the visitor centre.

He locked the truck after they were both out and slipped the keys into a back pocket. Hands lacing together they strolled in tandem down the paved trail dotted with golden leaves shed from the trees thickly lining the path, to the visitor centre made of the rough cut logs and the red, blue, brown and black granite stonework that was so distinctive throughout the park.

"Wanna go in?"

Sam shook her head. "Some other time."

On the trail just past the wood and stone building he guided them down the right fork in the trail to the Middle and Lower Falls. Maple trees had been planted along the trail here and they added colourful splashes of red and scarlet to the fall foliage.

They heard the waterfalls before they reached them. They emerged along the trail and before them, the Gooseberry River dropped in white curtains of water over the red stone.

"Wow," Sam said admiringly as they stood along the riverbank.

Jack agreed that it was a beautiful sight. There were more spectacular waterfalls on Earth like Niagara Falls or Venezuela's Angel Falls, and they had seen some pretty impressive ones reconnoitering offworld, but with Sam beside him and her hand in his these Falls seemed better than them all.

"Hey," she turned to him with an amused expression on her face, "I get why you wanted to call the waterfalls on P9A-837 'Gooseberry Falls' now."

"You remember that?" He was impressed. It wasn't like the planet had anything about it that was memorable, like naquadah deposits or some technological marvel to make it stick in Sam's mind. It had just been a rather pretty planet with a set of waterfalls that were like the ones here in the park, which is why it had stayed with him.

"Yeah, I thought it was just one of your er, _distinctive_,_" _she gave him a teasing look, "names, but it was because they looked like these falls, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was," he admitted.

Sam returned to just admiring the view and after just looking for a bit, she tugged on their linked hands. "Come on Jack, lets get closer."

He obligingly followed her out onto the exposed red stone of the riverbed between the Middle and Lower Falls. During spring runoff the river filled its banks but this late in fall, a good portion of it was exposed to the air and invited walking upon.

They wandered back and forth across the exposed riverbed and the shadows cast by the sun had moved a bit when they finally decided to start back.

"I want to show you something," he invited as he took them up a different path on the way back. "Its about how the park got started, how it got built."

"You know the history?"

"A bit. Not that I've got the interpretive signs memorized but I've been here enough that some stuff has stuck. So, anyway. There used to be a lot of pines here, but they started logging in the late 1800s and by the 1920s most of the trees were gone. About that time people started vacationing and touring up here and they got worried that Lake Superior's north shore would be controlled by the rich." Jack explained as they strolled along.

"So they set aside the area around here for preservation and in Dirty Thirties, the Civilian Conservation Corps began developing the park. It was the CCC boys that built all the stonework like the Castle in the Park—it's a three hundred foot retaining wall up near the highway—the lodges and stuff and laid out the grounds and trails."

The trail curved and the shirtless statue in honor of the Civilian Conservation Corps workers came into view. They stopped to admire the statue and read the plaque and then they continued on their way back to the parking lot.

"It was a great idea to come here," Sam said as as they reached the end of the trail. "I'd like to come back and see more some time."

"We'll make a day of it," he suggested as they crossed the parking lot to the truck. "Maybe we could even use the ski trails when we get up here later this winter. The Falls are really something to see in winter."

"Sounds like a great idea," she agreed as they climbed into the truck.

"So," he said as he turned the key in the ignition and started the truck, "where we headed?"

"Town of course."

"I know that, but where in town?"

She worried her lower lip for a moment. "I'll give directions when we get there. I want to keep it a surprise a bit longer."

Jack raised an eyebrow. Sounded like something big. And considering Sam's present last year had been a trip together to Maui he wondered what she'd done, or gotten, this year. He reversed out of the parking spot, drove out of the park, and joined the traffic on the double lane highway.

Nine minutes later they had reached Two Harbors and Sam directed him to one of the town's boat dealerships.

"Did you get me a new boat?" He parked the truck and frowned.

"No," she shook her head and released her seatbelt. "I know you like your grandfather's boat so I didn't get you a new one."

That was a relief and he mentally struck off a new boat from his mental list of possible reasons for being here. His grandfather's boat was an on old flat-bottomed rowboat but he wasn't looking for anything newer or bigger, happy with the boat that fit his pond nicely.

He followed her into the dealership and she led him to the sales department. After conferring with the salesman a new ten horsepower outboard motor was brought out to them, its silver paint and chrome gleaming under the lights.

He gave an excited look to his wife and she smiled and indicated the motor.

"Happy birthday Jack."

He bounced on his feet and then stepped up to the counter to eagerly run his hands over the gleaming paint job. "Sweet."

After drooling over it a bit—how could anyone not drool over this sweet machine—he looked up and said cheekily. "So... you can't fix the old one?"

Sam thumped him on the arm. "I can fix it. I just don't want to have to keep fixing it every time we go to use it."

"Okay, okay!" He laughed. "New motor is fine. New motor is good. I'm not saying no to new motor."

It was better than fine, better than good. It was great. He'd been wondering what Sam would be getting him this year and this was just perfect.

He pulled her into a hug when she just shook her head at him. "I'm just winding you up. Thanks Sam. It's a great gift."

She sighed but after a moment, relaxed and returned the hug. After the hug ended, he let the dealership guys carry the new outboard motor to the truck and load it in the back.

From town it was only an eighteen minute drive back to the cabin and when they got there, together they unloaded the motor and installed it on the boat. He stood back to admire how it looked and thought it looked pretty darn good on his grandfather's boat, the boat that his father had learned to fish in, that he'd learned to fish in, and Charlie had learned to fish in.

As they stood side by side in the shed, he reached out and drew Sam into a one armed hug and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Looks great."

She rested her head against her shoulder. "I'm glad you like it."

He pressed another kiss to her temple and then, his arm still around her, turned them around and steered them into the cabin. Once inside they got the presents for him that their friends had sent to the cabin with them and settled onto the sofa together.

"Cassie said she wanted hers to be opened first," Sam passed the brightly wrapped and ribbon festooned rectangular package to him.

"Yeah, she mentioned that when she phoned earlier," Jack commented as he accepted the lumpy feeling gift and raised an eye at the ribbons. They weren't the traditional birthday ribbons, but caution tape. He smiled a little over the sentiment in the card and took the hint of the caution tape and the heavily underlined note in the card to "_OPEN CAREFULLY UNCLE JACK!_" and did not massacre the wrapping paper.

Removing the paper revealed the bubble wrap that the item was firmly packaged in and he had to tear that off to reach the framed canvas beneath. Once the painting was free of wrapping and bubble wrap he set it on his lap and gave a low whistle as he admired the scene from the water of him and Sam fishing off the dock with the cabin behind that Cassie had done in oil.

The admiring whistle was well deserved. Cassie had always been a good painter but this was… this was something he'd expect to see in a gallery with a thousand dollar price tag attached. It was beautiful, beautifully painted and it just called to him, drew him right in and the memories just welled up in his mind.

"So Sam, where do you think we should put it?" He mentally rearranged the pictures on the townhouse wall, trying to decide where he wanted to put it up.

"I think over the townhouse fireplace."

He looked at her. "That's where your moon shadow box is." The souvenir and memorial for her fortieth birthday when he'd given her a moon walk. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." She met his gaze and reached over to lightly touch the polished frame. "This deserves to be over the mantel. I think it's the best that Cassie's ever done and I can't think of putting it anywhere else."

He agreed with a nod and carefully set the frame on the floor to lean against the sofa.

The next set of twin wrapped gifts and card were from Daniel and he knew by the shape and heft that they were undoubtedly books. He ripped the paper off, sending pieces flying over the sofa to reveal two different fiction novels. The theme made him laugh aloud though. One was a modern thriller titled _61 Hours_ and the other was a historic mystery titled _1952_.

Even Sam had a chuckle when she saw the books.

Teal'c's gifts was a pair of t-shirts and as he unfolded them and read the slogans on them, _Made in 1952: All Original Parts_ and _Rockin & Rollin My 61st Birthday,_ he mused, "Wonder if Daniel and T were in cahoots over these."

"It certainly seems that way," Sam agreed with amusement.

He put the books and t-shirts onto the coffee table along with the cards from the guys and sat back into the sofa cushions. He rubbed his hands together, grinned, and wiggled his eyebrows at his wife. "Now, about that cake…"

She laughed at him and got up off the sofa. "Okay, I can take the hint." Moments later she emerged from the kitchen holding two plates with generous slices of chocolate Guinness cake upon them.

"For the birthday guy." She passed him the larger piece and then sat down beside him with her own piece. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks," he gave her a warm smile. He rested his shoulder against hers and contentedly settled into enjoying his cake and just being with Sam. It had been a very good day and he knew it was going to be a very good year too.


End file.
